


spirals

by reddie_enthusiast



Series: ups and downs [1]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst, Blood, Child Abuse, Depression, Eating Disorder Not Otherwise Specified, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, Gen, Homophobia, Hospitals, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Underage Smoking, did i research? no. should i have? yes, its like pre graphic, maggie tozier? she gone, my medical knowledge extends to greys anatomy and thats it, richie and eddie are neighbours and hang out on the roof, richies dad is an absolute asshole, suicide ideation, zack and sharon aren’t bad parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:27:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22393273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reddie_enthusiast/pseuds/reddie_enthusiast
Summary: When Richie fell into the dark, swirling spiral, he didn’t even see it coming. He supposed it was always forming off to the side, just out of reach. Forming in his peripheral vision, out of sight and out of mind. When the spiral consumed him, Richie couldn’t feel anything.**richie tozier wants to die and there's nothing anyone can do about it
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Beverly Marsh, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Mike Hanlon/Stanley Uris
Series: ups and downs [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1622830
Comments: 51
Kudos: 161





	1. falling

**Author's Note:**

> welcome to my vent fic. this is incredibly angsty and there are many triggers throughout the story. im only posting one chapter rn but if yall want more i can post more quick because im not editting it and i have lots written
> 
> TW: Self harm (not v graphic in this chapter but definitely gets worse), restrictive eating, child abuse (graphic!!), use of homophobic slurs, emotional manipulation, suicidal thoughts. Keep yourselves safe and don't read if this triggers you

When Richie fell into the dark, swirling spiral, he didn’t even see it coming. He supposed it was always forming off to the side, just out of reach. Forming in his peripheral vision, out of sight and out of mind. When the spiral consumed him, Richie couldn’t feel anything. He sat on the edge of his bed, the only light in the room coming from his lamp, a dingy little thing he had picked up from the thrift store because his dad couldn’t be bothered to supply him with one. He stared at the black spot on the carpet from when he and Eddie had accidentally spilled the nail polish they had borrowed from Beverly, because  _ how hard is it to actually put it on _ ? Richie had gotten it bad from his dad for that. Usually, it was just a punch or kick to the ribs for misbehaving, but when Wentworth Tozier saw that his burden of a son had spilt nail polish on the carpet when he was putting it on like the little fag he was, Richie had gotten beat with the belt straight from Wentworth’s pants. The next day, Richie could barely touch his back and had to sit on the very edge of the chair when he went to Eddie’s house.

_ Eddie _ .

What would Eddie think if he saw Richie now? Richie thought he would probably stop being his friend. He was already a terrible friend, always cracking jokes and doing Voices that no one thought was funny. Eddie was probably sick of him, but Richie just couldn’t stop. Eddie would hate him even more if he knew that Richie had a crush on him. Boys weren’t supposed to like boys. He remembered trying to talk to his mother one time, when she was mostly sober and he was much younger, before she had packed up all her things and left, and telling her that he thought he liked boys more than girls. She slapped him across the face and told him that she always knew he was a fag. A disgusting fag. Richie didn’t go to the Quarry or to the Barrens for two weeks after that, sparking some inquisitions from the Losers, which had only consisted of him, Bill, Eddie and Stanley at the time. Stanley, Eddie and Bill were concerned, but Richie knew they were only asking where he was because it was the proper thing to do. The whole Loser’s Club, new or old, would be happy if he just didn’t show up anymore, if he just stopped… living.

Stop living. That’s a thought that crossed Richie’s mind often. The pros definitely outweigh the cons on that one. Richie just didn’t have the guts to do it. He was just a sad little queer no one liked. Bowers was right. His parents were right.  _ He  _ was right. He deserved to die, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. So instead he found other ways to waste away, methods that would eventually kill him. He smoked profusely as a way to combat the hunger pains he almost always experienced because he didn’t deserve to eat food even if his dad had bought some. He hadn’t had a decent night's sleep in months because his mind went much too fast for him to handle at that time of night. The worst thing he did to himself was probably the cutting. Whenever he couldn’t sleep or ate something he shouldn’t have or made another joke that no one found funny, he would slip into the bathroom and wiggle his favoured razor out from its hiding place under the sink. Richie had gotten sloppy with it recently, as a result of the thoughts racing through his mind. Scars littered his thighs, stomach and arms. God, he was such a mess.

Richie got up from the bed, snapping himself out of his dazed state. He slipped out his window, carton of smokes and a lighter in hand, and sat on the very edge of the roof. He didn’t hear the window next door open or the rustling of shoes against wood as someone climbed up the lattice leading to his roof. He was completely oblivious to everything around him, lost in his own mind.

“-Chie! Wow, you really know how to make a boy work for your attention, eh?”

Richie turned his head slowly to see who was talking. Big brown eyes were right close to his face, barely in focus because he didn’t have his glasses on. He could make out the freckles that peeked through pale skin because of the sun.

“Hey, Eds! It’s been a hot sec since I’ve seen you. I’ve been holed up in your mom’s room for far too long! Why have you graced me with your presence this fine night?” Richie said with a wink.

Eddie pouted slightly but quickly covered it up with a small smile, “I told you not to call me that, Tozier. I saw you from my window and decided I should pay you a visit. I haven’t seen much of you since school started. Everyone keeps wondering where you are because you never come to the Quarry or the clubhouse with us.”

“Didn’t I just say I’ve been busy with Mrs. K? I haven’t had much time to spend with anyone else because she’s been too occupied on my dic-”

A punch to the arm was accompanied by a  _ Beep Beep, Richie _ . He looked down at his feet and the ash that was gathering on his lit cigarette. He wished he could disappear at that moment, just evaporate into thin air. He took a long drag and held the smoke in his mouth until it was all he could taste before blowing it out.

“You shouldn’t do that, you know. Those things’ll kill you before you know it.”

Richie didn’t answer and leaned back on his elbows to look up at the stars instead.

“I’m worried about you, Chee. You seem so withdrawn. You don’t seem the same.”

He looked over and made eye contact with Eddie, a feeling of warmth spreading through him because of Eddie’s concern, “I don’t know, Spaghetti. Maybe I’m not the same anymore.”

Eddie’s mouth opened as if he was going to say something, but he was interrupted by the sound of a car door slamming.

“Oh shit! Time for you to go. Went is home. We can talk tomorrow.” Richie nudged Eddie gently towards the lattice, trying to get him away before his dad could see him, “I’ll see you in English, okay? Bye-bye, Eddie.”

Richie could see the hurt in Eddie’s eyes despite his near blindness, but Eddie left nonetheless, sneaking around the bushes so Richie’s dad couldn’t see him. He turned before going back through his window, giving Richie a soft wave.

***

“Boy! Get your ass down here!”

Richie felt tears prickle his eyes and he hadn’t even seen his father yet. He could already tell what was coming for him and knew he wasn’t going to like it. He stuck his glasses on his face and took a deep breath before walking down the stairs.

“Yes, Dad? I’m here.”

Wentworth walked over to Richie in his inebriated state and looked him up and down, a look of clear discontent on his face. He leaned down and sniffed the collar of his shirt.

“You been smoking again, fag? Didn’t I tell you what would happen if I caught you smoking? I said I’d teach you not to do it, didn’t I? You remember what happened last time, right? Or is your stupid, gay brain too dumb to comprehend simple things.”   
  


“No, I-I-I remember.” He remembered all too well and could almost feel the sharp pain his dad’s wedding ring caused when it dug into his cheek. It was ironic, how something that symbolized love had given him so much pain. When you have a kid, aren’t you supposed to love them as much as you love your husband or wife? That was how it was supposed to be, but obviously it wasn’t in Richie’s case.

His thoughts were interrupted once again by a burning sensation on the side of his head. Glass scattered down onto the floor from his shoulders, and he could feel shards digging into his scalp. Warm, sticky blood dripped down into his eye, his glasses having been knocked off his face and were now somewhere on the ground. To make matters worse, he had fallen down from the impact and was now being kicked in his barely healed ribs with hard, steel-toed boots. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Went kneeled down next to Richie and spat in his face. He put a hand on Richie’s cheek, and Richie flinched slightly.

“You know I love you, right? I just need to teach you a lesson. Stay home from school tomorrow and clean this up and we can talk after.”

Richie went up to bed, feeling just as numb and empty as before.


	2. dirty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i’ve realized that none of this fic is actually good but do i care? no
> 
> TW: self harm (graphic !), child abuse (graphic !), blood, implied eating disorder (barely barely)

Richie thought it was funny how he could remember the exact moment when his life flipped around. It was after his mom had left him in the shithole that was his home. He had spent weeks crying, thinking he wasn’t a good enough kid and that was why Maggie left, even though he was thirteen years old and knew better. His life had never really been great, with parents who were drunk most of the time, but they had never done anything terrible to him. Richie had his friends and that was enough.

But when Maggie left, something snapped inside Wentworth. He didn’t go to work for weeks, spending his time at the bar getting drunk off anything with anyone. Richie went to bed, hungry and with tears running down his face after sitting on the porch waiting for his father to come home. One night, Went came home earlier than usual. He called Richie downstairs. Richie could still feel his dad’s hands squishing his face tightly as his suspicions were confirmed. Went told Richie that it was all his fault, that Maggie left because he was gay and couldn’t act normal for two seconds. That was the first time Richie’s dad had ever hurt him, gripping his cheeks so roughly, they were slightly purple. That was also the first night Richie thought he would be better off dead. 

The day after, Went had hugged him gently, petting his hair with a tenderness Richie hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever. He told Richie he didn’t mean to hurt him and he was just hurting on the inside because Richie had made Maggie leave. Richie was handed a crudely made lunch as an apology and sent on his way to school without another thought.

The punishments only escalated from there, ranging from small pinches to full kicking and punching sessions like what had happened last night. And everytime Wentworth punished Richie, he would find another way to punish himself too, which is how the self harm started.

***

Richie clenched his fists together as he stood in front of the mirror, shaking himself from the memory from all those years ago. It wasn’t nice to think bad thoughts about his father like he had been recently. He slid his finger under the crack in the wood on the top of the cabinet below the sink, stopping when he felt cool metal prick his finger. The razor stubbornly made its way out and gleamed under the bright light emitting from the bare bulb in the bathroom. Richie rolled his left sleeve up, trying to count how many cuts he should administer that morning. At least three for smoking, as he’d been doing it before Went caught it for the second time, two for giving Went a reason to get mad at him, two for the jokes he made when Eddie came onto the roof last night and two more for calling him nicknames after Eddie told him to stop. He slid the razor along his arm, in between the cuts from the previous few nights and over raised, pink scars, nine times. He added an extra three on his other arm, for his not sleeping and eating that cupcake Stanley had given him at school the other day when he knew he shouldn’t have. He smiled slightly as he pressed a ball of toilet paper to his bloody arms. Once the bleeding stopped enough, Richie pulled his sleeves down and headed downstairs.

His dad wasn’t there when he came down, having already made his way to work. Glass littered the floor, speckled with blood. Richie’s hands shook as he took the broom from the closet and proceeded to sweep up the dirty glass. He nearly passed out when he stood up after pushing all the glass into the dustpan. His head ached and made his vision blurry. Richie ran a hand through his hair, still feeling some blood matted in his curls. He had gotten most of the glass out last night. He popped three Advil and started to mop the floor.

The doorbell caused Richie to jump and drop the mop, that was now stained pink from all the times he had had to clean up his own blood. He walked over to the door quietly so the person on the other side wouldn’t be able to hear him. He leaned down to look through the peephole and relaxed when he saw that it was just Stanley.

“Stan the Man! To what do I owe the pleasure?” Richie said with enthusiasm that took up almost all of his energy, stepping outside so Stan wouldn’t see the cleaning supplies through the door.

“Hey, Trashmouth. Why aren’t you at school?” Stan asked, cutting right to the chase.

“School is for the weak, I always say. I’m a bit sick at the moment,” Richie coughed into his fist before wrapping his arm back around his stomach, trying to sell the lie. “I’ll go when I’m feeling tip top shape, being sick is absolute codswallop if you ask me!” He added a crude British accent, almost involuntarily.

“Are you okay? Like for real? Eddie said you were acting kind of strange last night. And your face is all bruised. Did he hurt you again?”   
  


“Ah! You needn’t worry about me, twas just tired. You best be on your way to school now, fella, or you’ll be even more late than you are now!”

“Richie, you know you can talk to me, right? You don’t have to be scared to tell me whatever’s going on with you. I love you, man.”

Richie put his hand on Stan’s shoulder and smiled warmly, “I know. I’m fine, I swear. You actually do have to go to school now, because you only have first period free and it’s almost over.”

“Will you come to the clubhouse today? Everyone misses you.”

_ That’s unlikely.  _ “Uh, sure. I’ll see if I can later. Bye, Stanley.”

Stan turned around and Richie closed the door slowly before going over to the window and peering through from behind the curtain. He watched as Stan rode down the street, waving to people he saw walking past. Letting go of the curtain, Richie pushed his back against the wall and slid down until he was sitting with his knees up against his chest. The tears that ran down his cheeks dropped down into his lap. After allowing himself to cry for a few minutes, Richie shot back up, wiped his eyes harsher than he should of and continued to mop the floor in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i still don’t know how to finish this r-i-fucking-p 🖐😔


	3. feelings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i think i’m going to be able to finish this fic today, writing-wise. a lots going on rn and writing is the only thing that takes me mind off of things
> 
> TW: physical abuse (pre graphic), suicidal thoughts/ideation

With his music playing so loudly, he didn’t hear when the front door was slammed or the stomping steps that came up the stairs. Richie was busy getting ready to see the Losers at the clubhouse when his dad threw open his door aggressively. Scrambling to turn off the music coming from his stereo, Richie tripped over his nightstand, knocking his stack of CD’s and himself over. Hissing from the pain, he slapped around on the floor, managing to turn the stereo off.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing? Didn’t I tell you to clean up your mess?” Went’s eyes were angry, and Richie could anticipate where this was leading.

“I-I-I did! I did, I swear!”

“What? Did I raise an illiterate as well as a girly boy? Get the fuck up,” he grabbed Richie roughly on his wrist, twisting it slightly and reopening his fresh cuts, which were now bleeding just as badly as they were when he first did them.

Richie starting crying then, as he was drug from his room down the stairs. Wet, hot tears ran down his cheeks, burning his chapped lips when they passed over them. Each bump of the stairs sent a new jolt of pain throughout his already beaten body. Trying to subdue the pain as much as he could, Richie wrapped his free arm around his abdomen, hoping to stop his ribs from hitting the hard, wooden stairs as much.

They reached the ground floor slowly, with Went dragging the process out as long as he could. When they finally got to the last step, Richie was yanked up, his entire body protesting the continued movement. Once he was standing up again, he was pushed back down, his knees hitting the floor with an aggressive amount of force that could not be healthy.

“Don’t you see all this mess? Clean up all this blood, every last speck.”

“Dad, there’s nothing there, I cleaned it all earlier, I swear!”   
  


“Jesus fucking Christ, Richie! You continue to disappoint me when my expectations are already non-existent. Clean. Up. This. Mess. I’ll be back this weekend, and I expect this entire house to be clean when I get back. I’ve given you more than enough chances. If I find out you went to see your fairy friends at all during my time away, I’ll beat your ass into next week. I’ll excuse you from school for the next three days so you can finish. Are we clear?”

Richie didn’t answer, choosing instead to look at his knees, which were pulled up to his chest. He was interrupted by a seizing of his hair, which whipped his head back to meet his father’s eyes.

“Are we clear?”

“Y-yes. Yes, we’re clear.”

Releasing his hair with a grunt, Went grabbed his keys and wallet and left without another word, leaving Richie to sit in silence, which was just as loud as his own thoughts. It was fine though, because he knew what he had to do now. And it started with cleaning the house.

***

Richie cleaned until the sun was all the way down, scrubbing floors, wiping counters and organizing shelves. In order for his plan to work, he had to finish all his chores by tonight and write his notes before he chickened out again. He laughed, it seemed a bit unrealistic to him now, but he knew if he actually went through with it, he’d finally be done with all this bullshit.

“God, I’m actually going to fucking do it. I’m going to fucking kill myself,” he smiled slightly as he said it.

He managed to finish the house before ten o’clock, which considering he started sometime around five, meant he made a tremendous amount of progress. The only thing left for him to finish was the bathroom, but he didn’t need to do much there except the counters because the floors and bathtub would be dirty again anyways. It was his last big  _ fuck you _ to his dad; give him something to clean when he’d been forcing Richie to do it since his mom left. He decided he would do that later tonight, knowing he wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight anyways. Richie sat down at his desk, which was all nicely organized in a way Stan and Eddie would be proud of. He was just beginning to write his first note when he was interrupted by a tapping on his window.

Richie walked over, already knowing it was Eddie sitting there; he slid the window up quickly, turning back around and sitting in his chair so Eddie wouldn’t see his face quite yet. If Stan noticed the bruises earlier, it was only going to be worse now. His cuts and scrapes from not only his father but also himself were barely healed over and kept reopening if he moved his body a certain way and Richie wasn’t able to fully wipe up the blood without it hurting too badly, which was ironic considering he wanted to hurt.

“Wow, Chee, it’s so clean in here! Is this what you’ve been doing all day? I know you told Stan you were sick but he, you, and I all know that’s a lie. Did he get you last night?” Eddie was talking quickly and his voice was laced with concern as it always was when he came over late at night.

“I’m fine, Eddie. You should just go home,” Richie wiped his eyes, which he seemed to do everytime Eddie came over late at night, two constants that he was familiar with.

“I’m not going to go home, asshole. I know something’s wrong and I’m not going to leave until you tell me.”

“Please, I don’t want to talk about it,” his voice cracked with his words, tears coming out of his eyes just as strongly as before, “Just go home.” He managed to get his last sentence out before he started full on sobbing, still turned away from Eddie.

Walking over and wrapping his arms around Richie’s body, hugging him from behind. Eddie tried his best to soothe Richie. He ran his hands through Richie’s hair and down his face, holding back a gasp as he felt the scabs that were there.

“What do you need, Chee? Tell me.”

Still sobbing, Richie replied quietly, his words interrupted with his weeps, “Just hold me. Please, I just need you to hold me.”

Eddie spun Richie’s chair around wordlessly, pulling him up gently and leading him towards the bed. He pushed Richie down, but softly and with affection, so unlike anything Richie was used to. Once he was under the blankets and curled up on his side, Eddie laid down beside him and wrapped his body around Richie the best he could. They sat like this until Eddie had to go home, which was well into the early morning. Eddie had fallen asleep sometime after they got into bed, but Richie stayed up, staring at a chip in the paint of his wall, savouring that moment.

As Eddie stood up, stretching a little, he leaned down and gave Richie a kiss on the forehead, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Chee. Or today I guess.”

_ No you won’t _ , Richie thought.

“Okay, Eds, I’ll see you later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chance for any readers to tell me if they want happy or sad ending because imma finish this today or tomorrow. also i hope my chapters flow semi nice because i originally wrote this as a one shot but then i decided to break it up into chapters for easier reading


	4. bye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter but like,,,, big things
> 
> TW: graphic depictions of suicide

_Dear Dad,_

_Sorry?_

_Love, Richie_

Of course, Richie wasn’t actually feeling apologetic towards his father, but he felt it would be rude to leave a note for the Loser’s Club and Eddie and not leave one for him. So he wrote the barest minimum before signing his name and continuing on with the other letters. He didn’t really know why he was leaving a note in the first place; it wouldn’t matter if anyone got an explanation once he was gone, yet Richie felt the need to leave _something_ for his friends. They didn’t deserve to feel as though it was their fault. 

He addressed the letters, leaving the one for his dad on his bed and bringing the other two next door, placing them in Eddie’s mailbox. It was probably insensitive for him to make Eddie deal with that, but he wanted to make sure they ended up in the right hands, and that would not happen if he left them for his dad to find. He knew that Eddie would find them before his mom got home, which was what he wanted to happen. Eddie always got home three hours before his mom did and that gave him the freedom to do whatever he wanted in that time. Under no circumstances did Richie want Mrs. Kaspbrak to read his notes because they revealed his feelings for Eddie and he didn’t want Eddie to have to deal with his mother’s wrath and have her thinking he liked him back.

Once the letters were delivered, Richie decided to take a walk. He walked mindlessly, though, and he really had no clue where he had ended up until he saw the Paul Bunyan statue taunting him. He sat there for a while, staring at the statue’s empty eyes. For once, he didn’t feel sad, or empty, or numb. He felt calm. Content, even. Calm and content with his future. Suddenly, he felt a light tap on his shoulder, and he turned to meet a small old lady looking at him with furrowed brows.

“Are you okay, young man?”

Richie stood before answering, “I’ve never been better.”

He walked home, a small pep in his step, making sure to avoid the street where the school stood. Once he got home, he treaded upstairs to the bathroom and made quick work of grabbing a new razor from his father’s shaving kit. It didn’t matter if he took a new one or if his dad noticed now. Richie started the tap, filling the bath with as hot of water as it could go. It was nearing two thirty, which gave him at least forty-five minutes before anyone came looking for him and he figured he would need some time still to hype himself up before he’s actually able to slit his wrists, so with his estimated time before someone finds him after he actually does what he needs to do being closer to half an hour, or the length of final period at school, Richie hurries up his business outside the tub. He discards his shoes, kicking them off to the side, and takes his glasses off carefully, neatly placing them on the counter so they don’t accidentally knock into the tub. He decides to change into different clothes, opting to leave them on. He takes off his heavy, long clothes that he is very used to wearing now and changes into shorts and one of his old hawaiian shirts, feeling more like the old Richie than he has in a long time.

Richie climbed into the tub, wincing when he touched the hot water. It burned his most recent cuts but he barely notices. He gripped the razor tightly between his forefinger and his thumb. Breathing in and out quickly, Richie drug the razor up, vertically across all his old scars, like a car going over speed bumps. Blood started pouring down towards the bath, turning the water red and painting the sides of the bath. Switching the blade over to his left hand, Richie managed to get a smaller cut in on his other arm, not nearly as long as the one on his left, but it’ll work.

He leant his head back, closing his eyes and letting the water continue to colour, staining his clothes and making them sick to his body.

_Finally_ , he thought, and then he passes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the amount of times i did the “then perish” face whilst posting this is crazy. btw, i do not know much about medical shit and do not know how long it would take someone to pass out from blood loss so if anything is inaccurate, uhhh get over it i guess, idk 
> 
> also,,,, a proposition. what if i,,.,,, write two endings 👀
> 
> edit: how many chapters yall want today? im nearly done one ending


	5. concern

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall im stressed abt this, im scared no one gonna like the endings even though i never intended for this fic to be good. anyways, we've swapped to eddie's pov for a few chapters at least
> 
> no triggers in this chapter

When Eddie woke up that morning, he did not think his day was going to end the way it did. He left Richie’s room sometime before six in the morning, not wanting to risk his mother coming in early to wake him up for school. He hoped Richie would show up today, even just for a little bit, but he knew it was unlikely. Richie had changed a lot since his mom left two years ago, becoming quieter, withdrawn and just less _Richie_. And it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen the scars on his arms before he actually got good at hiding them. Whenever Eddie asked, Richie would just change the subject or brush it off with some bullshit excuse. He wasn’t the only one who had noticed the changes either. Everyone in their group had. 

They had tried to help, at first. They would always take Richie out, going to hang out at the quarry. Or they would take turns packing him a lunch when his dad was being more of a jackass than usual. But soon, Richie stopped going out with them after school, and then he stopped eating the lunches they brought. These led to him stop hanging out with the Losers at school too, and eventually, Richie was going to school only a few days a week, always covered head to toe in dark clothing that hid his body, so unlike how he used to dress. Eddie could count the times on one hand that Richie had touched him in the past year, a comfort he missed for the selfish reason of him having a crush on Richie.

Unlike the others, however, Eddie had the advantage of being Richie’s neighbour. If he saw Richie hiding out on the roof smoking, Eddie wouldn’t hesitate to give him some company, often trying to get Richie to talk to him about everything that had been happening. He didn’t succeed often, if ever, but he tried nonetheless. Really all he could do, now more than ever, is let Richie know he was there for him.

***

Eddie made it to school quickly, having successfully tricked his mom into believing he was home sleeping all night. Stan and Bill were waiting for him at the bike rack when he rolled up to the front entrance, an old habit of theirs.

“Did you talk to him last night? How did he seem?” Stan made no hesitation to ask about Richie; they had always been close, almost closer than Eddie and Richie were, and Eddie had no doubt that Stan was just as worried as he was.

“I don’t know, Stan. He was… sad. He was crying and stuff, he asked me to hold him. I can’t even remember the last time he wanted to touch any of us.”

“D-d-did he s-ss-sss-say anything?” Bill asked.

“He didn’t say anything once we got into bed. I stayed the night just in case, but he just stared at the wall until I had to go home. I’ll go see him again later, promise.”

The bell was close to ringing and the boys dispersed, all heading to their corresponding classes with a plan to meet up at lunch. Eddie had English first period, one of the only classes he shared with Richie, besides second block gym. The truth was that Eddie actually liked English, and being able to attend it with Richie only made it that much better, if Richie ever showed up to school. He sat down near the back of the class, his usual seat, and dumped his backpack onto the chair next to him. No one ever tried to sit next to him, all of them already sitting in a pair with their friends, but Eddie liked to keep the spot open in case Richie decided to show up later in class.

“No Richie today, Eddie?”

Eddie whipped his head up when he heard his mind called and quickly filled the silence with the excuse he usually used, “Hmm? Oh, no, ma’am, I think he’s sick.”

“No surprise there. You’ll bring him his homework?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

That was the last of Richie his teacher brought up. Class seemed to inch by, moving slower and slower each minute that passed before, finally, the bell dismissed them and Eddie was able to escape to his next class. It wasn’t much of an escape without Richie there. Ever since Richie had shot up to a whopping five foot ten, the bullies that used to plague their gym class had backed off, but with Eddie by himself, he was still a target.

_I just need to stop thinking about him until lunch_ , Eddie thought.

***

Eddie did manage to keep Richie off his mind until lunch. By then though, he was back to being a ball of worry and stress. He couldn’t stop fidgeting, wringing his hands around each other over and over and Bill grabbed them to still them.

“Y-y-y-yyy-you’ve got to s-stop worrying. You’re s-s-ss-sssstressing everyone o-out.”

“I can’t help it, Bill. I can’t get him off my mind. Everytime I think I’m done thinking about it, he comes right back.”

Bev sat down then, right next to Eddie, “Love will do that to you, darling.”

“Shut it, Bev!”

“She’s right, Eddie, you’re like crazy in love with him. He likes you back though, we can all tell,” Ben said next.

Blushing furiously, “Stop! No he doesn’t!”

“Mike, tell him.”

Mike was too wrapped up in whatever Stan was doing across the cafeteria to notice them talking to him. He waved shyly in his direction before ducking his head and blushing just as strongly as Eddie had.

“Now that’s love. They’re just as bad as you and Ben now, Bev,” Eddie said while smiling knowingly.

“Mike!”

He whipped his head up to see what the commotion was about, “What? Did I miss something?”

“Oh Jesus. Mike, do you think Richie and Eddie would be a cute couple?”

“Yes! Yes! Are you getting together? You guys are made for each other! Is Richie here? Can I see him? How’s he doing?”

Bev shot Eddie a pointed look, “He’s not here, Mike, I’m just proving a point. You can go back to staring at Stan while he buys milk now.”

“That doesn’t prove anything! Let me crush in peace!”

“Okayyy, but don’t say I didn’t tell you if either of you get your heads out of your asses and admits your feelings for each other. I want to be the maid of honour by the way. Have you talked to him at all?”

“Yeah, I saw him last night. He’s not doing so well. I’m going to skip last period to go see if he’s okay.”

“Might as well, Social is a stupid subject anyways.”

***

The rest of the day could not come soon enough for Eddie. He didn’t feel any less worried when last period rolled around, and he decided to take the long way around the park home. It was risky, and someone could have seen him, but he needed to calm down a bit before he saw Richie. He rode through the streets, letting the wind run through his hair and he felt much better by the time he reached his house. Class would’ve started about fifteen minutes before if he had attended, with it being two forty-five now. He noticed his mail flag stood up and decided to bring the mail in before heading over.

Eddie grabbed the mail and ran up the steps of his house, dumping his bike on the front lawn. There were the usual clothing catalogues his mother subscribed to, but tucked in between were two letters with no return address. One was addressed directly to him, and the other was directed towards the Losers as a whole. Confused, Eddie brought them inside and sat down at the kitchen table, not knowing the secret that was in store for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stanlon has my heart just as much as reddie does tbh. also i made the grave mistake of eating eight popsicles in three hours for no reason other than i could and i almost puked whilst positing this chap. i'm thinking this fic will be the happy ending fic and then ill post a separate fic and make this part of series and post the not happy ending fic there. 
> 
> bonus: if anyone wants to like,,, idk,,, be my friend,,,, all my socials are @ suttonskylar2 and we can talk
> 
> edit: lmao i hope there's no creeps cuz that's my personal account name and im too lazy and not Cool enough to make a different account for fic shit. i hope no one kills me


	6. dear losers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter and the next one were my favourite to write even if theyre the shortest because uhhh feelings
> 
> no triggers

_ Dear Losers, _

_ Crazy how far we’ve come, eh? I’m sorry I haven’t been around. It’s been a lot, lately. I’ll miss you guys, all of you. You’ve all been there for me, always, and there’s nothing I could ever do that can properly express how thankful I am that you  _ _ are  _ _ were all my friends until the very end. I love you, each and everyone of you. _

_ Bill, these guys are going to need some guidance now. I’m sorry to leave this all on you, but I just couldn’t deal with all this shit anymore and I decided to take the coward’s way out. Thank you for always being there for me and for distracting me when I needed it most. Now, you need to distract the others. They’re strong, but not as strong as you. And just because you’re the strongest doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to break. You’re allowed to be upset (although I don’t see why you would, this isn’t a great loss.) You don’t have to act like some stoic fucking hero all the time, you’re still human, and everyone will still love you if you need to take a break. Also, just ask Audra out, man, she likes you too. _

_ Stan. Stan the man. Stanley Urine. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t strong enough to stick around. I’m sorry you had more faith in me than I had myself. I love you. Stanny, you are so good. You have always managed to find the good in me when I couldn’t find it myself. Thank you for being able to believe in me when I could never believe in myself. And, congratulations on you and Mike finally getting together! I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that in person. You deserve something good. _

_ Mikey. Never stop dreaming, man. You’re going to get out of this shit town and you and Stanny are going to have a whole gaggle of cute children and raise them somewhere warm like Florida, even though Florida is filled with old ladies. I’m sorry I won’t be there to see you and Stan get married, or watch your kids grow up, but it’s better this way. No one around to be able to screw em up. I love you, don’t stop looking towards the future. _

_ Bev. Bevvy Levvy. I love you so much. Thanks for being my friend first and foremost. You managed to put a smile on my face on the days I couldn’t look past my own problems. Don’t ever stop being happy, Bev. You deserve the world and then some. Ben can give you that. Y’all better have some cute ass kids like Mike and Stan, because you’ll be a great mom. Look to the stars, I’ll be there too. Don’t stop keeping on. _

_ Finally, Ben. You have the biggest heart of anyone I know. You and Bev were made for each other. I hope you never stop writing poetry, because you’re like crazy good at it and it can make even the emotionless feel (speaking from experience.) You and Bev deserve to have a great life, together. Don’t let anything change that. _

_ Eddie, if you’re wondering where your paragraph is, see envelope numero dos. I couldn’t fit my feelings into one paragraph. _

_ I love you, Losers, don’t let this stop you from living your lives in peace. _

_ Love, Richie _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what if i made you all wait for eddies letter,,, ahaha,,,, jk,,,, unless *obama then perish eyes*


	7. dear eddie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hear your cries and i present to you,,,, this. this was my favourite chapter to write and i did most of it in the shower because that's where i do my best thinking
> 
> no triggers

_ Dear Eddie, _

_ I’m sure you’re wondering why you get a whole ass letter and not some dingy little paragraph in the collective letter. To be honest, I’m not entirely sure the entire reason either. I just know I was writing the other letter and I was like, man, I’m going to need another page for Eddie’s paragraph. So, I decided to just stick it in a different envelope. _

_   
_ _ First things first. Why I did it. Well, I’m sure you know by now about my dad. If you don’t, I’m surprised, but I can run it down for you. He’s an ass, bottom line. Ever since Mom left, he just… he’s terrible. He hurts me, Eddie, a lot. He hurts me more than I hurt me and that really says something. He beats me, and he tells me every fucking day I’m worthless  _ _ (and I am) _ _ And I just couldn’t fucking deal with it anymore. So, I took the coward’s way out. That’s all I am, a coward. I was so done with this… overwhelming feeling of nothing and everything. God, I’m such a fucking mess. _

_ Secondly, and this in no way is any of your faults at all, but I just feel like such a fucking disappointment all the time. Before, I was Richie Tozier. The class clown. Always had a joke up his sleeve and could turn a room around at any time. But that person is gone now, and I’m left with no purpose. You guys don’t need me anymore, and it’s time for me to accept that. And it was time for me to leave once I did. You don’t keep things you don’t have any use for, and there is no longer a use for me. _

_ Third, and this one is the real fucking doozy. I’m gay. I’m very very gay and I’m sorry you didn’t know. I should have given you all the chance to leave me when I first realized, but I’m selfish, so I didn’t. I’m gay, and I’m very much in love with you. Like so in love with you, I can’t breathe when you walk into the room because I get so nervous. And it’s not fair of me to spring this on you now, but, hey, I’m dead so what does it matter? Eddie Frank Kaspbrak, I love you with my whole heart and then some, and I hope you never have to go through the pain I did ever in your life. I love everything about you. Your cute hair that waves just the right way. Your big brown eyes that hold my entire world. Your freckles, that I want to spend hours connecting just because I can. I love the way you get mad at me for calling you nicknames because you’re so cute when your face gets all squished up. In another life, I know I would spend hours just kissing every inch of you I could reach because everything about you makes my head spin. You’re going places. You’re going to become some cute little English teacher and everyone is going to love you because Eddie Kaspbrak, you are a marvel of a human being and I don’t think I will ever stop loving you, even after I’m gone. _

_ So, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for leaving you and I’m sorry for not giving you a chance to leave when you could, because now you’re stuck with this on your conscience and you deserve better than that. I’m sorry and I love you. _

_ Love forever and always, Richie <3 _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man, he do be confessing doe. the whole time i was getting this chapter ready to post i was thinking about a tik tok where the person is sad and someone else says there's nothing to be sad about and then a deep voiced man is like "thank u dat is much better" and i feel like that will be all of u after reading this chapter


	8. waiting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok i swear it'll start getting better (mostly) (sort of) now, less sad stuff. there will be at least four more chapters after this one, but im not sure when i'll be able to finish. i have a birthday party today and work tomorrow and then my second semester starts so i'm busy these next few days. i have most of the chapters written though so should be fine
> 
> TW: blood, puke, discussion of abuse

Eddie ran out of his house, full speed, with the letters shoved into his back pocket, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, nonononono, Richie.”

He tried Richie’s front door but found it locked, so he ran around the garden, tripping only a little bit over the hose that was strewn across the sidewalk. Thankfully, the back door was unlocked, and Eddie ran in quickly.

“Richie? Rich! Oh, fuck! Where are you?”

He checked the living room and kitchen before racing up the stairs, throwing open every door he saw until there was only one left: the bathroom. Eddie tried the door knob, but it was locked too, so he pounded on the door with an open hand.

“Richie! Open the door! Please, it’s Eddie! Eddie Spaghetti! Open the door!”

Frantically, Eddie rammed his body against the door. It wouldn’t give, so he continued to slam his shoulder against the door, now crying. His body was bruised when he finally got the door to open. His tears didn’t subside when he saw Richie in the tub.

“Oh, God. Nononono, Richie, no! No!”

Eddie grabbed Richie’s shoulders, shaking them hard to try and wake him up. He gripped under his armpits carefully, pulling him out of the bath and onto the mat in front of the tub. Wrapping towels around Richie’s wrists, Eddie tried to stop the bleeding as much as he could, not caring that he was absolutely covered in Richie’s blood now.

“Stop,” Richie muttered, almost too quiet to be heard. He tried to move his arms from Eddie’s hands, but was too weak to do much than slump back against the bathtub, eyes fluttering closed.

Running downstairs, hyperventilating, Eddie rushed to grab the phone, calling 911 while leaving bloody fingerprints all over the keypad.

A lady answered the phone, talking in a calm voice, “911, where’s your emergency?”

“Oh, fuck, oh fuck! Um, I’m at 1123 Witcham Street, my neighbour slit his fucking wrists, Oh My God. I think I’m going to puke!”

“Sweetie, you need to calm down. I’m sending an ambulance over right now. What’s your name?”

“Eddie. Eddie Kaspbrak.”

“Okay, Eddie, can you tell me your neighbour’s name?”

“Richie. When’s the ambulance going to get here?” Eddie’s breathing picked up when he thought about Richie bleeding out in the upstairs bathroom if the ambulance didn’t get here in time.

“Eddie, you need to take a deep breath. The ambulance is on its way. Are there any adults there that can help you.”

“No, no, I’m by myself. My mom doesn’t get home until later and his mom left and his dad is never around. I need to go, I need to go back.”

He hung up the phone and went back upstairs, tripping on the top step and skinning his knee on the floor. Richie was still in the bathroom, but had fallen over and was laying on his side. Eddie heard sirens approaching and started to apply more pressure to Richie’s arms, continuing until EMT’s came into the bathroom as well. He was pulled away gently by a man wearing a police uniform while two EMT’s lifted Richie onto a stretcher and whisked him away. The man sat Eddie onto the toilet and knelt in front of him, shining a flashlight into his eyes and asking his name.

“Eddie. Is Richie going to be okay? H-he-he can’t die yet, I haven’t even told him. I need to tell him,” Eddie made the mistake of looking down at his hands, shaking and covered in blood, and leant forward and threw up onto the police officer. “Oh, God. I’m sorry. Imsorryimsorryimsorry.”

“It’s okay, Eddie. Can you take a deep breath for me? I promise they’re going to do everything they can to save Richie, but right now you have to focus on not panicking.”

“How can I focus on panicking when I just pulled my best friend out of the bathtub! What if I hadn’t got here on time? What if I hadn’t skipped last period?”

“That was a helluva brave thing you did. Everything you did was right. Do you want to come down to the hospital and wait?”

The officer stood up, grabbing a towel from the counter and wiping the puke off of him as best he could before grabbing Eddie’s hand and leading him downstairs, where another police officer was waiting for them. They took Eddie to the cruiser that was parked outside and he wordlessly got into the back, not even noticing when they started driving.

***

They got to the hospital quickly, and Eddie was brought inside the familiar building and handed off to a nurse with a kind smile who showed him to the bathroom, where he washed himself and changed into the itchy shirt that was given to him. The nurse was outside the bathroom waiting for him to finish, and she brought him to the waiting area, handing him a bottle of water.

“Is there a phone I could use? I really need to call my friends.”

“Sure thing, hon, you can come with me to the nurse’s station and you can use that one.”

Eddie dialled a number he knew off the top of his head, hoping that all his friends were gathered in the same place. The phone rang three times before someone answered.

“Denbrough Residence, Bill speaking,” 

“Bill? Is everyone there?” Eddie said quietly, both hands gripping the phone tightly.

“Uh, y-yeah. We ttt-tried calling your house but n-no one answered. Is everything o-okay?”

“No. How fast can you get to the hospital?”

“Hospital? E-E-E-Eddie, are you okay?

“No! I’m not fucking okay! Richie tried to fucking kill himself. Just get to the hospital!” 

He hung up the phone and walked back to the waiting room, slumping into a chair and fiddling with his water bottle. Truthfully, he didn’t realize how much time had gone by before the other Losers got there; somehow, it was moving both fast and extremely slow, a tornado in it’s own way. His eyes were glazed over as he focussed on a scuff mark on the floor, unaware of his friends walking towards him.

Beverly was the first to say something to him, “Eddie?”

Eddie looked up, looking empty and devoid of emotions, a sad downturn in his eyebrows and his usual fiery gleam gone from his eyes. Mike sat next to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him back to lean on his shoulder. Eddie complied and dropped his head down.

“What happened?” Ben asked as he sat on the other side of him.

Taking a shaky breath, Eddie began to explain everything that happened, from the time he got home until now, and took the letter addressed to all of them, keeping his letter in his pocket. The note was passed around, everyone tearing up as they read it and looking at each other with guilt.

“Jesus,” was the only word spoken among them, said by Bill as he finished the letter, handing it back to Eddie; he then went to the nurse’s station and called his parents, informing them of the situation. They were all sitting in the same row of chairs now, all touching each other in some way, looking for any sort of comfort as they waited with bated breath for sort of news. Abruptly, Stan stood up from where he was sitting next to Mike, letting go of the deathgrip he had on his hand. He was crying and pacing, trying to wipe his eyes with one hand while gesturing wildly at nothing with the other.

“How could I have been so stupid? This is my fault! I just saw him two days ago, I should have realized something was wrong.”

Eddie looked at him in exasperation, “Stan, stop. If this is any of our faults, its mine. I saw him last night. I fucking knew he wasn’t okay and I left anyways!” His voice broke on the last word and he dropped his head into his hands.

Mike got up, pulling Stan into him and stroking his hair as Bill took his place next to Eddie and rubbed his back lightly while he cried. The motion was a comfort for him and only stopped once Bill’s parents arrived, dressed in comfortable clothes, looking as if they had been watching TV before the kids left and Bill called them. Bill was taken aside and he explained the situation the best he could. Sharon knelt down in front of Eddie after, taking him into her arms, not caring that her shirt was becoming damp with tears.

“Tozier Family?”

Everyone’s heads snapped towards the doctor. Sharon stood, pushing Eddie back into the chair as he tried to come with her and Zack.

“Eddie, stay here. We’ll tell you what the doctors say,” Zack said as he walked past them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one of the endings i have planned is vvv nice and fluffy i swear to goodness it's just gonna take a bit to get there


	9. discussions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here have another chapter because i finished the chapter i was working on. depending on what time i get back, i might start the next one as well
> 
> TW: discussion of abuse

The doctor spoke in a quiet, reserved voice, calm yet understanding at the same time, “Mr. and Mrs. Tozier?”

“Oh, no. I’m Sharon Denbrough, this is my husband Zack.”

“I’m Dr. Greene. I need to speak with Mr. or Mrs. Tozier. Are they here?”

Zack spoke up, “I’m afraid that won’t be achievable. Maggie left years back and we weren’t able to contact Wentworth. He wasn’t at the house when we checked and his boss said he hasn’t been into work for the past week. The barkeep hasn’t seen him since last night either. And, frankly, I don’t think he would care much about Richie either way. As of right now, we’re the closest people that boy has to parents.”

“Okay then. Well, Richie arrived in critical condition. He had lost a lot of blood by the time he got here. We stitched him up and gave him a blood transfusion.”

“Is he okay?”

“That’s not all, Mrs. Denbrough. He was severely malnourished, so we put him on an IV drip. I don’t think that boy has had a proper meal in weeks. He had many other injuries as well, self-inflicted and not. Head trauma, broken ribs, facial bruising, cuts on his wrists from before the incident and scars all over his body. I need to know what kind of emotional trauma he’s suffered from so I know best how to address him if he wakes up. The blood loss combined with the malnutrition has made him unstable. His heart rate and blood pressure have been dropping, but fortunately his heart hasn’t stopped.”

Zack and Sharon shared a look of guilt, not unlike the one the kids had had on their faces when they arrived. “As much as I hate to say it. I don’t know much about it other than what Bill has told us, which isn’t much. If you want the best answer, you should talk to Eddie,” Zack divulged.

“Eddie is the boy who found Richie, correct?”

“Yes, he’s the one wearing the scrub top.”

“Do you think he would be up to speaking to a social worker and I?”

“I could ask him if you’d like.”

“Please do.”

***

Eddie wrung his hands together as he watched the doctor talk to the Denbroughs. Despite being told numerous times this wasn't his fault, he still felt incredibly guilty, and was anxious for any sort of news regarding Richie. He jumped to his feet as all three adults started approaching them. Sharon came up to him first, putting her hands on his shoulders.

“He’s okay, right now. The doctor needs to ask you some questions about Richie, do you think you’ll be okay to answer them?”

He nodded his head quickly and let himself be whisked away into a large conference room, where another lady with a pinched expression sat at the end of a long table in a comfortable looking chair. The windows surrounding the room made Eddie feel vulnerable, and he curled into himself after he was sat in a chair adjacent to the social worker. He wrapped his arms around his torso, hoping for any sort of comfort but not receiving any.

The pinched lady spoke first, “Hello, Eddie. My name is Elisa Cook; I’m a social worker here at the hospital and I’ve been assigned to Richie’s case for the time being. I’m just going to ask you a few questions about him so both Dr. Greene and I can better understand Richie’s situation and how best to treat him if he wakes up. Is that okay?”

Nodding softly, Eddie awaited the first question.

“We’ll start out with some easier questions. How did Richie act at school around you and your other friends?”

“Um, he was fine, I guess. He was always smiling and cracking jokes. Until two years ago.”

“What happened two years ago?”

“Richie’s mom left. She wasn’t the best mom but he took it pretty hard, blamed it on himself, when he had nothing to do with it,” Eddie thought to himself for a second. “I think that’s when Richie’s dad started to get worse, because he blamed Richie too. We all tried to help convince him otherwise but he never listened to us.”

Elisa wrote in her notepad and Eddie tried to lean up and see what it said, but it was too far away. “Based on your experiences around Richie or his father, do you believe Richie was in a safe environment?”

“No.”

“Can you describe Richie’s home life the best you can?”   
  


“His dad hurts him and stuff. Yells at him a lot. I can see it sometimes, when he comes to Richie’s room. And I can hear it too. Richie begged us not to tell anyone so we didn’t. We tried to keep him out of the house a lot, and we would pack him lunches and invite him over for dinner but he stopped coming awhile ago. He wouldn’t come to school much either.”

“So, Richie’s father wasn’t feeding him properly either?”

“I can’t remember the last time Richie brought a lunch to school, but I don’t think the not eating was just because of his dad, because he wouldn’t eat when we brought him stuff.”

“Okay. When was the last time you saw Richie besides earlier today?”

Eddie started tearing up again before he answered, remembering the state he had left Richie in, “This morning. I sleep over alot when his dad’s not home because he has trouble sleeping. He wasn’t in a good headspace and I left him anyways because I didn’t want my mom to find out I snuck out.” He dropped his head on table, crying hard.

“I think that’s enough questions, ma’am,” Dr. Greene spoke for the first time in the room.

“Of course, Dr. Greene. Eddie, none of this is your fault. Don’t treat it as such. You’re still a kid, and you don’t know the signs to look for in a case like this. Once Richie wakes up, you’ll be able to see him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next "big" thing to happen gives me mixtape vibes, so feel free to guess what's gonna happen with that. i'm thinking also there will probably be a time jump, because the ending i want to write calls for it. if u didn't know the losers are fifteen in this. ALSO, since so many people were upsetti spaghetti over the recent chapters i have added a very nice surprise in the next chapter 
> 
> edit: BAHAHA i have grammarly set up on my laptop and the tone detector said my chapter was sad


	10. restless

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello im back posting the second last chapter of this fic. i wasn't going to end this one where i did but then decided i would rather write a second smaller fic for richies recovery instead of just a chapter like i was planning because then i can go more in depth :^) alsoooo small surprise in this chapter
> 
> TW: homophobia, references to suicide

Sharon was on the phone with other parents when Eddie came back, informing them of what had happened as well. She had to ensure Mrs. Kaspbrak many times that Eddie was fine before she gave him permission to stay at the hospital with her. She had also spoken to the social worker, finding out as much as she could about fostering Richie once he got out of the hospital, and she and Zack were able to begin paperwork then that could start the process. They didn’t hear anything about Richie until after the rest of the kids had gone home, including Bill and Zack. Only Sharon and Eddie remained when Dr. Greene came back to the waiting room.

“Richie is stable as of now. You can come see him if you’d like. He’s still asleep; I think he’s just exhausted and his body is trying to catch up on some sleep while it heals, but he should be waking up soon. If you’ll follow me,” the doctor turned and walked towards a long hallway decorated with familiar patterns Eddie remembered from his own visits in the pediatric ward.

Sharon let Eddie go into Richie’s room by himself first, for no particular reason other than she could he needed to be alone with him, even if Richie couldn’t speak. Eddie pulled a chair from the side of the room up to Richie’s bed and held his hand, which was cold and pale. He pulled it towards his face and gave a feather soft kiss to the back of his hand before holding it to his forehead.

“Richie? I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m sorry. I should’ve been there for you. I should’ve pushed more when you would brush off all our concerns. I shouldn't have left this morning. I’m sorry you felt like this was your only option and I didn’t make it clear you had another. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I loved you before.”

As Eddie cried, he heard a sniffle from Richie and looked up to see Richie barely awake, staring at his bandaged wrists. He pulled his hand from Eddie’s and ran his finger against the rough material surrounding his arm before wiping his eyes and sitting up painfully. He started muttering under his breath.

“Rich, I can’t hear you.”

“I said, why am I here? This isn’t how it was supposed to go! I shouldn’t be here!”

Richie’s heart rate sped up as he continued yelling about how he shouldn’t be here, trying to tear the bandages off his arms and scratching at his body. A nurse came into the room, followed by Dr. Greene and Sharon, who pulled Eddie out of the room, forcing him to watch Richie get restrained and sedated through the small window in the door. Eventually, Richie fell back asleep, slumping awkwardly against his pillow. Eddie was allowed to come back in once the nurse finished her business, but he and Sharon decided to go home instead, promising to return the next day, which was thankfully a PD day and Eddie had no school.

***

Sonia was watching TV in the living room when Eddie got home, even though the sun was creeping down and the sky had a purple hue. She had an expression on her face that was mostly blank but was angry at the corners, with her eyebrows furrowed slightly and her mouth in her perpetual frown.

“Hello, Mommy. How was your day?”

“Fine,” she blew lightly on her nails, which had a fresh coat of paint on them. “I take it you didn’t have a good day?”

Eddie had to resist the urge to scoff, “Obviously, Ma, my best friend almost died.”

“If you ask me,” Sonia shrugged as she talked, “it’s better off this way. He was always a bad egg and now he won’t be able to influence you so terribly.”

Dropping his jaw and raising his eyebrows, Eddie answered with disbelief, “Are you serious? My best friend almost fucking died in my arms and you tell me it’s a good thing? How can you even say that?”

“Language, Edward. Honestly, it wasn’t hard to tell he was a… homosexual. I can hear the yelling coming from that house and it must be true what his father says. Adults know best and kids are just full with lies they’ve heard and chosen to believe.”

“What! So, your whole problem with Richie is the fact that he likes boys? That’s outrageous and bullshit and if you think you’re always right you have another thing coming for you.”

“I will not tolerate this behaviour, Eddie-bear, go on up to bed and we can talk tomorrow.”

“No! We’re talking about this now! How can you honestly look me in the face and tell me someone deserves to die because they aren’t straight?”

“It’s unnatural. It’s not what God intended. Now, go to bed and forget about this nonsense.”

“Oh ho ho! It’s unnatural? How’s this for unnatural? I like boys too! In fact, I like Richie! And I’m not going to spend another second in this house knowing you would rather him be dead. I’m leaving, and don’t try to stop me. I’ll be back another day,” he smirked in satisfaction at his mother’s shocked face.

“Eddie-bear! You can’t leave me! You’re not well! I’ll help you get those thoughts out of your head. We’ll go to the church!”

Eddie flipped her off on his way out, leaving with nothing besides the clothes on his back, knowing he would have to return soon anyways. For now, though, he was too angry to be around her. He walked to Bill’s instead, seeing the Denbrough’s for what felt like the billionth time that day. They invited him in, letting him sit down as Sharon brought him a change of clothes and Zack made him a sandwich.

“Eddie!” Georgie squealed as he rounded the corner into the kitchen, having heard Eddie talk to his parents and Bill. He jumped into Eddie’s lap, and Eddie wrapped his arms around him, holding him close. It was no secret that all the Loser’s loved Georgie and they all revelled when he climbed into their laps, even if he was quickly outgrowing them.

“Georgie! I missed you! How’s my bestest friend?”

“R-r-rreally? I’m right hhh-here!” Bill looked appalled.

Waving his hand in Bill’s direction, Eddie sat Georgie onto his lap better, so he could continue eating his sandwich. Georgie only took one bite out of it and Eddie counted that as a win. All three boys sat in a comfortable silence before the youngest of them was called back upstairs to get ready for bed, leaving just Eddie and Bill to finish up in the kitchen and then head upstairs themselves, where a bed was made for Eddie on Bill’s floor. Finally feeling exhaustion creep in, Eddie got settled as Bill turned the lights off, the only light in the room now being the glow in the dark stars Georgie had pasted on the roof with Bill many years ago.

“E-E-Eddie?”

“Bill?” Eddie sneered.

“You know it’s n-not your fault, r-rr-right?”

Eddie didn’t answer, choosing to look at a patch of stars in the form of a smiley face instead. Logically, Eddie knew it wasn’t his fault. He had school; he had to leave. But knowing that didn’t make the sting of Richie’s presence, or lack thereof, any better, and Eddie couldn’t help to feel as though he could have prevented it. He supposed all the Loser’s felt that way now, even if only a little bit.

Bill leaned over the side of his bed, meeting eyes with Eddie, “You didn’t k-know what he was p-planning. None of us d-did. If you don’t blame any of us, t-then why d-dd-do you blame yourself?”

Inhaling deeply, Eddie prepared to tell Bill about the letter addressed to him, “Bill, if I tell you a secret, do you pinky swear not to tell anyone else?”

“O-of course. What’s wrong?”

“Obviously, you know that Richie wrote me my own letter, but I wasn’t ready to tell you guys about it yet. I know you guys always teased about us having crushes on eachother, but I never thought it was actually true that Richie liked me back. And basically, my letter was a big love confession, and I can’t help but feel like if I had told him that I loved him back or even if that I was just gay, which I know most people assume already but I hadn’t told anyone until my mom today, that maybe he wouldn’t have done it. Because I really fucking love him. I love him so much that I think if he died, I would die too. And that’s probably dramatic for high school but just everything about makes me want to plant a kiss on him, even when he’s infuriating. I don’t know what I’ll do if he dies, Bill.’

Now was Bill’s turn to be silent. It was evident to all of their friends that there was _something_ going on between the two of them, but neither Eddie nor Richie had ever actually confessed it to anyone; a real bonafide confession.

“Do you w-want my honest opinion?”

Eddie sat up, awaiting for Bill to tell him it was a waste of time now. He nodded through the dread in his stomach.

“You and Richie are made for each other. Just like Bev and Ben and Stan and Mike. You guys have that love, that grow-old-together love that never goes away. That I-love-you-even-if-you-annoy-me love. A _marrying_ kind of love. And like any other kind of love and relationships, there are ups and downs. Remember when Stan told his dad that he was dating Mike and he almost got kicked out, so Mike broke up with him. It was a down. It was a mistake. But now they are back up. Just like that, this is just a down. I believe he’s going to live, and then you guys can have your happily ever after and a whole lifetime of ups. You and Richie are two halves of a whole.”

“Wow.”

“W-what?”

“You didn’t stutter once,” Eddie laughed.

Bill started chuckling too, “I was trying to be p-p-ppp-passionate. Did it work?”

“Yeah, you’re really good at that. Making people feel better, I mean.”

“Thanks, Eddie. Now go to bed. We can go see Richie again tomorrow.”

And with that, Eddie slept restlessly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE GEORGIE IS HERE!  
> I started my second fic but don't expect it out for a while


	11. wants

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> last chapter folks!
> 
> TW: references to suicide

Eddie was woken up by someone smacking both sides of his face and peeked open his eyes to be met with Georgie’s grin upside down.

“Mommy says it’s time to get up or she’s going to leave without you guys. She made pancakes!” he ran off again, obviously excited about being able to eat pancakes.

Bill groaned as he pulled himself out of bed, nearly stepping on Eddie’s hand in his half-asleep state. Eddie got up quickly, changing into clothes Bill threw at him from where he was in the closet. The smell of breakfast was starting to waft into the room when Bill opened the door again, making Eddie’s mouth water. He left Bill to continue doing whatever it was he was doing in the bathroom in favour of getting something to eat.

“Good morning! Can I offer you some pancakes, or eggs, or bacon, or toast? We have cereal, too. Or I can make you something else if you want?” Sharon looked frantic in the kitchen, obviously stressed.

“Just pancakes is fine, Mrs. Denbrough. Are you okay?”

“I’m just fine, Eddie. That social worker from the hospital called and said they’re going to send someone over for a house check today, so I’m trying to prepare for that. She said they found Richie’s dad at the house early this morning.”

Eddie choked on his food but tried to cover it up as a cough, “Do you know what’s going to happen?”

“Mommy said Richie’s going to come live with us now!” Georgie looked happy at the thought of another older brother, and he was clearly unaware of the circumstances surrounding it.

“Georgie, how about you go see what Billy is doing upstairs so I can talk to Eddie,” Sharon sat in Georgie’s spot once she got up, so she was sitting next to Eddie. “There’s a lot of evidence pointing towards abuse and not just the injuries they found at the hospital. The police got a warrant to search their property. There’s no food in that house, at all, so Richie was obviously neglected, which I’m sure you know. Elisa is certain his dad will lose custody, even if he does try to fight it. He’ll likely face charges, maybe even jail time. All I know right now is that if the inspection is passed, he’ll definitely be coming home with us after Richie’s released. There’s no doubt that Richie will end up in foster care now, so we can only hope that we can get him first. The spare room is already made up for him.”

Running a hand through his hair, Eddie thought it over. He knew that Richie’s dad wouldn’t get him back, but he couldn’t help but worry that somehow Richie would still get taken by him. If Wentworth did take it to court, anything could happen.

“Can we still go see him today?”

“I’ll take you and Bill over after breakfast, but I won’t be able to stay. I think Bev’s aunt is there with her right now, so you won’t be alone.”

He ate breakfast quickly and used the bathroom to freshen up before Bill was finally finished his extensive morning routine (ie, staring in the mirror until his hair was  _ just right _ ), and he was ready to go. Bill and Eddie headed up to Richie’s room as soon as they got their visitor passes and met Bev’s aunt, who was sitting in a chair in front of the door reading a thick novel. Bev sat on Richie’s right side while Stan sat on his left; Mike’s jacket was thrown haphazardly on the chair next to Stan, so it was evident he was here as well. Richie wasn’t restrained anymore but had his hands tucked into his armpits to avoid people touching him. A bowl of fruit and yogurt sat in front of him, as well as a glass of apple juice, but all three sat untouched. Richie hadn’t noticed Bill and Eddie come in; he was staring intently at the tops of his legs, which were covered by a soft blanket that Bev had brought him.

It was also Beverly who tried to speak to Richie, “Rich? Bill and Eddie are here, if you want to say hi.”

Richie looked up but didn’t speak. His eyes were red, as if he had been crying, and deep purple bruises still protruded against his pale skin. His face was blank, but not in an angry or annoyed way like Stan sometimes looked. It was sad, with his features downturned softly, making him look like an injured puppy, for lack of a better example.

“He hasn’t said anything since we got here. Mike left to go to the bathroom, but his dad needs him home and I promised to go with him. Beverly is going to stay with her aunt for a while,” Stan looked just as wrecked as he had yesterday, tear stained cheeks matching Richie’s. He got up, grabbing Mike’s jacket and left just as Mike had gotten to the door, sending a quick wave to the four of them before Stan whisked him away.

Eddie took his place next to Richie while Bill asked Bev into the hall; it was obvious Bill was trying to get Eddie alone with Richie, probably hoping he would talk to Eddie if the others weren’t around.

“You know if you don’t eat they’ll tube you.”

Richie barely acknowledged Eddie, but gave him a small side eye that was hardly noticeable. He moved his hands away from his upper body, dropping them into his lap, but still get them tightly clasped together.

“I won’t hold your hand if you don’t want me to, if that’s what you’re worried about. I’m fine just sitting here,” he leant his body back against the chair, draping his own hands over the arm rests, looking comfortable. “I’ve got all day, man. I’ll sit here until you at least drink the juice.”

Richie responded by pushing the tray away from himself, the cup nearly tipping over. The juice wobbled, some drops spilling over the edge. This earned him a pointed stare from not only Eddie but also the nurse who had come in to check on him. It was the same nurse who had given him clothes and water the day before.

“Good morning, Eddie. Richie, if you don’t eat something, they won’t let your friends come to visit. You don’t have to say anything to anyone, just eat something,” she pushed the cart back over top of Richie and stood her ground until he huffed and picked up the spoon, dipping it into the yogurt. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? I’ll be back in an hour to change your bandages.”

Only a few bites of yogurt were eaten until Richie felt sick and gagged on the spoon. Eddie rushed up, grabbing the empty container that was sitting on the edge of the cart and shoving it under Richie’s chin. Luckily, he didn’t puke, but he did put the spoon back and stopped eating. He coughed again, wiping his mouth even though nothing was there.

He spoke quietly, and Eddie could hardly hear him, “Why the long face, Spaghetti Man?”

Eddie’s head jerked up and his eyes met Richie’s expectant gaze, “Why do you  _ think  _ I have a long face?” he only received a shrug back, so he sighed and scooted his chair closer to the bed. “Are we going to talk about this or not? Because I’m sure Bev and Bill are anxious to come back in but clearly you aren’t talking to them.”

“Do we have to?”

“No. I won’t force you to do anything. It’s your choice. But I’m not mad, none of us are mad, if you’re scared about that. We want you to get better and we can’t help you get better if you don’t tell us what’s going.”

Richie twiddled his fingers, rubbing the tops of his knuckles and intertwining them, “Do you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“You’re not mad? For real?”

“Of course I’m not mad. Why would I be mad?”

Eddie couldn’t hear what he said next, for he had mumbled it quietly. He leaned forward, “I can’t hear you, Rich, you gotta speak up.”

“You’re not mad that I didn’t do it right?” tears were springing up in Richie’s eyes, and seeing them made Eddie want to cry too.

“Richie,” Eddie grabbed his hand against his better judgement, but Richie didn’t pull away, so he took it as a sign that it was okay. “Do you think I want you to die?”

Richie looked at him like the answer was obvious, one eyebrow arched slightly and teary eyes squinted, “I mean, yeah?” His tears fell more now, trailing down his cheeks and face turning pink.

“Listen to me. There will never, ever, ever be a time I want you to not be in my life, let alone dead. I could never wish that on you.”

“Even though I’m gay?”

“You being gay doesn’t change anything. You’re still my Richie and I still love you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“I’m sorry about a lot of things. I’m sorry you had to deal with all this. I’m sorry that I left you the notes and made you deal with the aftermath. I’m sorry I did it but I’m also sorry it didn’t work,” Richie took a deep breath, looking at Eddie once more. “I’m sorry that I love you. I’m sorry. I’m really really sorry. I just can’t stop.”

Eddie climbed onto Richie’s bed, wrapping his arms around his sobbing, shaking form, running a hand through his greasy curl. He shushed him softly, “Don’t be sorry for any of that, most importantly the last one. Because it makes me feel like you regret it and I don’t want you to have regrets, especially since I want to do this.” Eddie moved his hands to either side of Richie’s face, planting a kiss on him.

Richie didn’t move at first, surprised from the action, but soon he placed his hands on Eddie’s face and kissed him back with passion he didn’t know he had. Eddie smiled against his mouth and pulled away.

“Well I’m glad that’s out of the way. If you couldn’t tell, I love you too.”

Richie blushed and leant back in. Both boys were unaware of the prying eyes in the hall.

***

“Damn, took them long enough, don’t you think?” Bev was smiling big.

“Y-you should’ve heard E-Eddie last night. ‘I’m so in l-lll-love with Richie, Bill, I-I-I can’t handle it!’” Bill's voice went insanely high as he mocked Eddie.

Bev snickered and was smacked in the arm lightly by her aunt, “Stop teasing. And stop staring!” she scolded.

“Ruining all the fun. I think I could make a career outta being a matchmaker slash creep because not only did I get Mike and Stan together, but I witnessed their first kiss as well.”

“I ddd-d-don’t think t-tt-they know that, B-Bev.”

“Eh, some things are better left unsaid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and thats a wrap on spirals! how'd you like the fic as a whole? what aspects do you guys want to see explored in a sequel? favourite parts? least favourite? let me know! thank you to everyone whose read this fic and especially thank u to my freuqent commenters because yall made me want to continue this fic! stay tuned for the next fic ;^)

**Author's Note:**

> i am nearly done this fic. i usually only write in this when im going through it which was a lot recently. im not sure how i want to end it so let me know if you would be more interested in a happy or a sad ending. if its a happy ending ill probably write a recovery fic


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